


Take Me Out to the Ball Game

by wintersoldier1989



Series: Evanstan [6]
Category: Actor RPF, Evanstan - Fandom, Marvel Cinematic Universe RPF, Real Person Fiction
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-20
Updated: 2019-01-20
Packaged: 2019-10-13 12:15:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17487878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wintersoldier1989/pseuds/wintersoldier1989
Summary: Chris takes Sebastian to see his favorite team play for the World Series title.





	Take Me Out to the Ball Game

**Author's Note:**

> This one was fun to write. I love Chris ‘Meatball’ Evans. Enjoy.

_Fact: Chris Evans can sing... but not after consuming four beers while attending Game 7 of the World Series between the Boston Red Sox and the New York Yankees._

It was an accurate assessment as far as Sebastian was concerned. He wasn’t sure his hearing would ever fully recover. He felt for every other Red Sox fan with ears sitting in their section, currently listening to the screeching bellows of what was supposed to be _Take Me Out To the Ball Game,_ emanating from somewhere deep within Chris’ body. 

Sebastian had never been to a major league ball game before, let alone the championship. Chris swung his arm around his shoulders, squeezing them as encouragement for Sebastian to join in. Seb couldn’t help the enormous smile on his face as he sang along with his boyfriend.

The song finished, _thank God_. Sebastian looked across the stadium and saw fellow Red Sox fans sending another wave around the stadium. “It’s coming!” Chris hollered while jumping up and out of his seat, his hands shooting out like rockets, his right hand nearly nailing Sebastian in the face. “Oh shit, sorry man! I nearly poked your eye out!” Chris blurted as he impulsively grabbed his left pec, doubling over in laughter.

“Hot dogs! Get your hot dogs!” a teenager clad in Red Sox paraphernalia shouted to the crowd.

“Over here!” Chris yelled in Seb’s ear, waving a twenty dollar bill in the air, trying to get the kid’s attention. Seb was convinced he was now deaf, or at least temporarily.

Of course, Chris had connections and enough name recognition to watch the game from one of VIP box seats. But as a true Boston boy, he couldn’t imagine going ‘ _to Church’ —_ Fenway Park _,_ and watching the game from anywhere other the stands along with thousands of other diehard Red Sox fans. They’d both signed what felt like a million signatures upon arrival, but now all the fans were engrossed in the fate of their team, not giving the celebrities next to them a second glance. They were seated behind the Red Sox dugout and Chris Evans was having the time of his life. 

Seb exchanged the twenty for a hot dog and a handful of mustard packets. _God forbid_ there be no mustard.

His boyfriend eagerly unwrapped the hot dog from its foil vessel, squirted an obscene amount of mustard on it and shoved it in his enormous mouth.

“That’s real hot.” Sebastian winked at the man beside him, chomping on his wiener. “You know you can breathe, right?” he chuckled. “It’s not going to escape.” 

“It’s just sooooo goooood,” Chris practically moaned, his mouth full, as he finished inhaling his hot dog in three quick bites. He licked the remaining mustard from his lips, his eyes rolling into the back of his head. 

Watching Chris’ tongue move slowly around his plump lips, took Sebastian right back to the action in Chris’ bed earlier that morning. He closed his eyes, reliving the sight of Chris’ tongue lapping around his hard cock, swirling ever so gently around the tip. The guy really did have a talented tongue. 

“You want a drink? I could go for another beer,” Chris nudged Seb, startling him out of his short-lived reverie.

“Uh, sure,” Sebastian replied. “I’ll take a Red Bull.”

Chris hurried back with their beverages just as the crowd erupted in thunderous cheers, the Red Sox pitcher had struck out another Yankee batter. 

In the eighth inning, the Red Sox pulled ahead and had a solid four run lead heading into the ninth. Chris watched the game with rapt attention, gesturing wildly and mouthing back when he didn’t like the umpire’s call. 

With the game nearly over, the tension in the stadium was palpable. The pitcher threw the last pitch over home plate, sealing the other team’s fate. The Boston Red Sox had won their 9th World Series championship.

When the home team ran onto the field, Chris was beside him cheering his heart out. The biggest smile Sebastian had ever seen, plastered on his face. Seb swore nothing could make Chris happier in that very moment, not even winning an Oscar.

After the lengthy post game celebration, the two men found themselves stuck in traffic on their way back to Chris’ place; Sebastian’s hands on the wheel of Chris’ 1967 Camaro, a gift from Downey when they wrapped _Civil War_. The traffic was not allowing Sebastian to get a true feel for the car’s true capability. They crawled along the downtown streets. 

Chris could clearly still feel his body buzzing from the beer and the high of the religious experience that he had shared with all of Boston tonight.

“Did you have a good time?” Chris asked, turning to look at Sebastian, placing a hand on his thigh. Chris was thrilled that Sebastian had come to the game with him. He loved sharing his interests and hobbies with his boyfriend.

 _“_ Seriously, I loved having you there with me. This is a night I’ll never forget,” Chris said with genuine emotion in his voice, his left hand now moving in firm massaging strokes.

_Fact: Chris Evans is a horny drunk and gives really great blow jobs._

“We’ll see about that, Evans. I’m not sure you’ll remember anything about tonight, I think you passed that point somewhere between beers five and six,” Seb stated. 

“No way, I’m always going to remember being at Fenway Park with you, watching my team bring home the trophy,” Chris recounted, a dreamy quality to his voice. He brought his lips close to Seb’s neck, leaning across the console. Both men were wearing Red Sox caps, their faces obscured from any potential onlookers. 

“I’m driving here, Evans. You don’t want to add death to your list of memorable events of the evening, do you?” 

“We’re not even moving,” Chris mumbled against Seb’s collarbone, giving it a long, deep suck. 

Sebastian couldn’t help the moan that escaped his throat. He was helpless against Chris’ mouth. Drunk Chris was less than subtle with his intent as he gripped Sebastian through his jeans. His hand out of sight from any slow moving passersby.

“Jesus, Chris,” Seb griped with frustration.

“I want your cock in me,” Chris replied, seductively.

“Well that’s going to have to wait a bit, you can’t exactly ride me while I’m driving,” his boyfriend reasoned. 

“But, wouldn’t that be wonderful?” Chris sighed contentedly. He laid back against his seat, his eyes drifting closed, a grin forming on his lips.

“What are you thinking about over there?” Seb asked cautiously. He knew Chris’ frisky side came out when he had too much to drink. 

“Just thinking about something we _can_ do while we sit here, stuck in traffic,” Chris’ eyes popped open, a twinkle of mischief in them. 

He reached across the console and undid the button of Seb’s jeans.

“What do think you’re doing, Evans?” Sebastian squirmed.

“I’m claiming my prize, didn’t you hear? Boston won tonight.” His hand pulled down Seb’s zipper. He slid a hand inside the denim and cupped his cock.

“You’re going to get us caught.” Seb hissed, helpless against the feeling of Chris’ fingers.

“Imagine the headline — _Captain America Gay? Chris Evans caught hot and heavy with co-star after Red Sox World Series Win!_ The potential exposure isn’t worth a blow job,” Seb reasoned.

“Oh, you wanted a blow job? I was just going to give you a quick handy, but what my man wants, my man gets.” Chris moved quickly across the console, his head next to bottom of the steering wheel.

“What the hell, Chris!” Seb yelped, his cock suddenly enveloped in a hot wet mouth. 

Sebastian’s knuckles turned white as he gripped the wheel. Chris’ mouth and fist both moved sloppily, his head bobbing up and down. 

The firm and fast pulls on his cock had Seb’s jaw tensing with desire.

“You’re a troublemaker, Evans,” Sebastian gasped. “You have everybody fooled with that Captain America, routine. You’re just a horny frat boy.”

“A frat boy that’s only horny for _you,”_ Chris clarified lifting his head briefly, his lips already swollen. Seb whimpered and Chris eagerly returned to the task at hand. Or rather, _in_ his hand.

Seb could already feel the tingle of his release. Chris’ groans and the wet sounds of his cock being pleasured began to overwhelm the small space.

“Fuck, I’m going to come,” he gritted, giving Chris the opportunity to get out of the way.

Chris took Sebastian as deep as he could manage in their current position. Seb’s hips rocked up involuntarily towards the heat.

Sebastian’s hand left the wheel, gripped Chris’ hair and he shuddered. It was quick and dirty, but no less satisfying. He exhaled a giant breath, his body finally relaxing. Chris swallowed every drop Seb gave him. 

“Mmm, wouldn’t want ruin the upholstery, how would I ever explain that to Downey? Plus I love having the taste of you in my mouth,” Chris crooned, tucking Sebastian back into his jeans while taking Seb’s mouth in a tongue-sweeping kiss. 

“Me? All I can still taste the mustard on your breath,” Seb laughed. “I sure hope I don’t taste like mustard.”

 _“_ It adds a little _je ne sais quoi_ ,” Chris chuckled and leaned his head against the headrest, his eyes drifting closed as Seb finally merged onto the highway.

Sebastian pulled the car into Chris’ garage, and removed the key from the ignition. He glanced over to the sleepy form in the passenger seat.

“Hey sleepy head, we’re home,” he cooed. 

“Uh, what’s that? I must’ve dozed off for a minute there,” Chris muttered, rubbing his eyes. 

“You coming down off the high from your big win, Evans? I thought you wanted me to fuck you?” Sebastian teased. “But if you’re too tired...”

“I’m not! I’m not! Never too tired for that,” he implored as they both got out of the car.

As soon as the door opened, Dodger was there greeting them with infectious excitement, jumping up and down all over his owner.

“We won, boy! Can you believe it?” Chris asked the pup, scratching behind his ears. 

Dodger gave a happy yelp, clearly proud of his home team’s victory.

“You two going to spend all night going over the play by play or are you going to make good on your promise?” Sebastian asked, a smirk planted firmly on his lips. He made his way down the hall, his shirt and jacket falling to the floor, forming a trail of breadcrumbs for Chris to follow.

Chris gave Dodger one more head rub and stumbled down the hall, unzipping his pants and pushing them down his legs. “Sorry, boy. Gotta go!”

After finally escaping his pants, he arrived at his bedroom door. He swallowed audibly, watching the gorgeous man on his bed stroke his cock. He slipped his favorite Red Sox jersey over his head.

_Fact: Chris Evans thinks Sebastian Stan is fucking HOT!_

Chris lunged toward the bed, landing on top of Sebastian. “Careful man, you don’t want to damage the merchandise,” Sebastian groaned with Chris’ weight crushing him to the mattress.

Chris took his mouth in a deep kiss, silencing his comments. Their tongues battled for dominance, Seb’s back arching into the muscled arms. His hands wandered down Chris’ sculpted back, finally seeking their destination between firm cheeks.

“I may be drunk, but not drunk enough to let you do that without some sort of lubrication,” Chris chided, the words falling into Seb’s mouth with a pointed kiss.

Chris rolled off of Seb to grab the lube and condom from the bedside table. Seb groaned in disappointment. He pushed himself up and crawled between Chris' legs.

He took the lube and condom from Chris. He flipped open the bottle cap and poured the smallest drop of lube on his index finger. Chris widened his stance, anticipating Seb to rub his finger on the place that needed him most. 

Chris inhaled sharply, then his eyes closed as he felt the cold wetness of the lube touch his nipple. Seb's finger swirled and rubbed in the most intoxicating way.

“Ugh. You’re such a tease, Stan,” Chris whined.

“Just taking my time, it’s only the 3rd inning, Evans.”

“I’m running out of patience,” Chris warned. His hips bucked up, seeking friction.

“Don’t worry, I’ll give you what you want.” He pushed Chris’ knees up to his chest and Chris’ arms hooked behind them, opening himself up in the most intimate way.

 

Sebastian’s tongue darted out and took a tentative taste of the hole Chris presented to him and so desperately wanted filled. Chris pushed his ass closer to Seb’s hot mouth. Seb indulged him, lapping at the sweet spot. 

With Chris’ hole now nice and wet, Sebastian added a finger into the mix. He slid his forefinger past the ring of taut muscle, stretching Chris in preparation for what he really wanted, what his body was begging for.

Seb continued to lick steadily, spit running down his chin; a second finger now deliciously stroking Chris’ prostate. 

“Jesus Christ. Faster, deeper, just _more_ ,” Chris demanded while rocking on the bed, his hand abandoning a knee for his cock. 

Sebastian obliged adding yet another finger, pumping steadily.

“Give me your cock, no more fucking teasing.” 

Not one to disobey a direct order, Seb rolled on the condom, poured a generous helping of lube into the palm of his hand and stroked himself.

Seb’s slick fingers joined Chris’, rubbing along his length. The tip of his shaft pulsating at the extra attention.

He scooted closer, allowing Chris’ legs to wrap around him as he pushed inside of him. His hands gripped Chris’ thick thighs, fingertips pressing into the well-defined muscle.

He began to thrust in earnest. The sensation of being inside of Chris was like no other. The connection between them made it about more than just the physical act of release. There was an indescribable intimacy between them.

Chris’ body was tense, though his release evaded him due to the many beers he had consumed.

“Are you close?” Sebastian asked, his own orgasm closing in.

“Don’t stop,” Chris ordered, a rush of breath leaving his lungs.

Sebastian alternated between slow, deep thrusts and fast but shallow movements. He took ahold of Chris’ leaking cock, his fingers applying a firm pressure to the underside with each upstroke. His thumb intermittently swiping over its sensitive head.

“Come on, baby,” Sebastian encouraged. “It’s bottom of the 9th, bases are loaded.”

“The only load I want is yours,” Chris groaned, eager to relieve the tension in his aching balls.

Sebastian continued his assault, his rhythm increasingly erratic. His hands returning to Chris’ muscular thighs in order to maximize his leverage. Each thrust now rubbing against Chris’ prostate. Chris’ groans of pure pleasure indicated his approval and vocalized that his release was near.

Each clench of Chris’ muscles squeezed Sebastian’s cock like a vice. His eyes rolled, a shiver running down his spine at his impending release. He buried himself with one last deep stroke, his cock unloaded into the warmth.

At the sensation of being filled, Chris tightly squeezed himself, his hips bucking up as his orgasm hit him; the warm moisture coating his hand as his body finally relaxed.

“I can’t believe you made baseball puns with your cock in my ass,” Chris laughed as he came down from his high. “We’re going to have to work on your dirty talk, love.”

“Keep calling me love and I’ll do whatever you want,” Sebastian replied with a smirk and a wink.

Seb crawled off the bed, headed to the bathroom for a damp towel to clean them both up. 

_Fact: Chris Evans snores._

He returned from the ensuite to find Chris already passed out. Loud snores emanating from his throat, as they often did when he drank. Sebastian cleaned him, as best he could and smiled at the large body spread out like a starfish, taking up the majority of the California King.

Sebastian managed to snuggle up to a sleeping Chris, he covered them both with the covers and closed his eyes. 

-

The next morning Chris was woken up by a frenzy of wet licks to his face. He reached out and found Dodger’s warm body cuddled against him.

“How’d you get in here?” he asked his pup, his head pounding from the hangover he was experiencing. 

He squinted, looking to the other side of the bed and was surprised when we found it empty. He turned to reach for his phone on the nightstand when he noticed the bottle of Gatorade and the bottle of Advil. A blue post-it note stuck next to them on the table. 

Chris picked up the note and read Seb’s neat printing.

_How’s the hangover? ;) Went for a run, I’ll pick you up one of those giant, greasy breakfast burritos you like so much. See you soon._

_Love, Seb_

Chris’ heart swelled at the small but meaningful gesture. He typed out a quick text to his boyfriend.

_Don’t forget the hot sauce packets._

Seb’s reply was immediate.

_Never ;)_

_Fact: Chris Evans is madly in love with Sebastian Stan._


End file.
